


crumbling like pastries

by multifandomstylinson (ViolaWay)



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Prostitute!Dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 19:03:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolaWay/pseuds/multifandomstylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Dan's last night before he gets out of his life, and Phil's there to take him away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	crumbling like pastries

**Author's Note:**

> the point of this is:  
> dialogue= no description  
> description= no dialogue  
> look, it's meant to be artsy and shit.
> 
> (title taken from 'the a team', by ed sheeran)

“PJ, look! It’s a double rainbow!”

“I think it’s triple if you look hard enough.”

“I think that’s just our windows.”

“No, there’re three.” 

“It’s two! Wait…now it only looks like one.”

“Go outside, then.”

“But it’s _cold,_ PJ!”

“Phil, for God’s sake. You’re twenty-six in two days; you can put on a coat.”

***

“So it’s really your last shift in two days?”

“Yup.”

“Dunno why you’re leaving, to be honest. You’re crazy. The pay’s good, innit?”

“I wasn’t cut out to be a prostitute, Chris, and you know it.”

“More for me, then. But go out in style, yeah? And Dan?”

“Yeah?” 

“Promise you won’t forget about me?”

“Couldn’t if I tried.”

***

“Hey, PJ.”

“Hi, Chris, what can I do for you?”

“Sleep with me?”

“Yeah, right. Dream on.”

“We haven’t spoken in ages. Did you know it’s Dan’s last shift in two days?”

“No, I haven’t spoken to him in, like, a year. Phil’s turning twenty-six that day, too.”

“D’you think he’d like a shag for a birthday present? …I didn’t get him anything.” 

***

Dan would not miss the street corner where he stood most nights, in the snow, in the wind, and in the pouring rain. He would not miss the predatory stares of the people who passed him, knowing exactly why he was there. He would not miss the sex (although Chris insisted he would). And he would not miss the money. The money was dirty, and it was wrong. He’d gotten a job offer at a local radio station, and he was going to take it. He was leaving this life behind. One last night, though. 

Chris had fixed him up with someone: one of his mate’s mates, or something like that. It was a birthday present. Dan was so tired. No doubt he’d have to bottom for some stuck-up twat who insisted he liked pussy better than dick and then came twice in one night while inside Dan. At least this guy would be around Dan’s age, probably. He was used to middle-class balding men trying to relive their youth through liquor and cheap fucks. He would not miss any of it. 

Well, he might miss Chris. They’d been living together for years in a squashed apartment, with Chris fixing up Dan’s flings, and occasionally getting out on the streets himself. Chris was flexible like that. 

But now Dan was moving to a new apartment, in Central London, far away from the club he worked outside of (‘Valley of the Dolls’, what a tasteful name). He wanted nothing to do with his old life.

The doorbell rang.

***

Phil had no idea why he’d agreed to PJ’s insistence that for his twenty-sixth birthday present, he was getting laid. He’d been asked whether he’d prefer a guy or a girl, and now, looking back, he was baffled as to why he’d answered. He didn’t do these things: he hadn’t had a one-night stand in his life, so why was he starting now, after a little pressure from PJ? He didn’t know what to do? How did these things even work? What was he supposed to say? Why was he paying for sex when he was an attractive young man who’d been in plenty of fulfilling long-term relationships? Well, technically Chris was paying. 

Phil hadn’t even known what Chris did for a living until yesterday. Now he was wondering how he hadn’t found out sooner. 

Did he really have to do this? Was it too late to back out? Maybe he could meet this guy and they could just chat for the hour. Yeah, that sounded good. Phil thought he’d try that. Why had he even left the house?

He got out of the car, trudging up the path like he was on the way to his death sentence. To him, this was as good as one. He was so going to hell. 

He rang the doorbell.

***

“Hi, my name’s Dan.”

“I’m Phil.” 

“You nervous? You seem a bit…” 

“I have never ever ever done anything like this and this was completely PJ’s idea I had nothing to do with it don’t hate me.” 

“I think it was Chris’s idea, actually.” 

“Oh. Okay. Do we actually have to…?” 

“Have sex? Not if you’re not okay with it. I’m hardly going to rape you, love.”

“I kind of…want to? But don’t? At the same time. If that’s possible.”

“Of course it’s possible. How about this? I make you a coffee and we get to know each other, and then, if you want to, we can fuck. Sound like a deal?”

“Um, okay. That sounds nicer, actually.” 

“Well, I don’t often get house calls. Never, actually. You must be special.” 

“I’m…not, really. PJ just wants me to grow up. He doesn’t say it out loud, but you can tell that he wants me to be more mature. And I suppose, he’s here studying for a fancy film-making degree or something at UCL, and I’m here. Well.” 

“UCL? Do you live near there, then?”

“Yeah, we’re almost right next door. It’s really near Hyde Park, too.” 

“I’m moving there, tomorrow, actually.” 

“Oh. We should meet up.” 

“Absolutely. Give me your number after tonight and we can organise something.” 

“Oh my God, this conversation is so absurd!”

“No, it’s not. We’re just sitting around my apartment drinking coffee. There is absolutely no guarantee that this will lead anywhere at all.”

“But—no offence—you’re a hooker!”

“Well, for one more night only. After that, I’m a radio presenter.” 

“Really? That’s wonderful.”

***

Dan likes Phil. He likes him a lot, with his gangly limbs and awkward words and soot-black hair and wide blue eyes. Dan had never met anyone like him before, because Phil is just honestly _nice_ and _honest_ , and he isn’t entirely driven by lust. This might be the first person Dan has actually wanted to have sex with.

Because there’s the thing: Dan has never been in a long-or-short-term relationship. He’s been alone his entire life, sleeping with people who pay him. Maybe that’s sad, and he’s certainly sad, but there never seemed to be an escape route. 

Now there’s Phil, and Phil wants to sleep with him but wants to be _good,_ even though he’s twenty-six: he doesn’t swear and he says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ too many times to count. 

He takes too much sugar in his coffee and far too much milk. Dan has his coffee black: sharp and bitter. They’re a bit different, certainly, but they’re okay. 

***

Dan looks surprised when Phil asks him, but he complies immediately, leaning forward are pressing his lips to Phil’s. Dan’s mouth tastes bitter, like the coffee, and when he licks into Phil’s mouth it’s the same. Phil reaches his fingers into Dan’s hair, and they kiss like that: languidly, with no real objective or incentive, for several minutes, until Dan hesitantly lowers Phil into a more horizontal position, lying him back against the couch and moving on top of him, supporting his body by placing his elbows around Phil’s head, one of his legs snaking in between Phil’s.

It’s not like Phil’s never had sex before, but it’s never felt like this: dirty and potent and _electrifying_ : every nerve tingling where Dan touches him. Phil is normally quiet, but Dan changes that, when he twists the ebony black hair from his scalp and little whimpers and moans tumble from Phil’s mouth before he can help them. The start lazily grinding, and Phil takes pride in the noises that Dan makes, too—they make it feel less like what it is. They make it feel like Dan could be someone Phil’s known for years, with a relationship that’s built up over years. 

They don’t end up going any further than handjobs beneath their all too skinny jeans (Phil really should’ve thought about that before he left, but it’s too late now. He doesn’t think he’s ever come that hard, and he pulls Dan in for kiss after kiss afterwards, peppering his jaw and neck with little marks and bruises. Dan chuckles but makes no move to stop him, even bucking his hips a little in his way of demanding that Phil touch him. 

Phil does, and it’s the old parable that giving is better than receiving: Dan’s face when his eyes scrunch shut and his hands when they fist into the sofa cushion.

***

“Was that okay?” 

“Dan…” 

“What?” 

“I know it’s weird, but…could we go out sometime? I really, really like you, and that was amazing. I understand if you don’t want to, but…” 

“Of course, Phil.” 

“Really?” 

“No need to sound so disbelieving about it! I was planning on getting back out there after tomorrow anyway. I was just…I wanted a real relationship.” 

“What’s your number? I can call you once you get settled in…or I could help you unpack, if you want?” 

“Um, gimme your phone, I put it in…and yeah, that sounds perfect. I mean, packing will be boring as hell, so you don’t have to…” 

“I want to.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. We can go to the cinema after—there’s this great little place on the corner, and barely anyone ever goes there…” 

“Phil Lester, are you trying to seduce me?” 

“Maybe. D’you want me to?” 

“Depends on whether you buy me dinner first. I have my rules.” 

“Hmm…favourite kind of food?” 

“Chinese.” 

“That should be easy enough to find. I thought you were gonna say that you loved Swahili food.” 

“Maybe I’m making this too easy for you. I’ve heard that the cuisine in Mozambique is delectable.” 

“Oh my gosh. I’m leaving before you change your mind and I end up having to fly you out to Algeria. Text me your new address, and I’ll see you soon?” 

“I can’t wait.”


End file.
